


A Short, Nonlinear Narration of a Theoretical Love Story

by orphan_account



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, RPF, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lea and Dianna on falling in love and falling apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short, Nonlinear Narration of a Theoretical Love Story

 

 _August 2011_

“How have you been?’

“I wouldn’t have dragged you here if I merely wanted to exchange pleasantries with you.”

“Okay.”

“I guess you’ve heard some rumors lately.”

“What rumors?”

“That we’ve been inseparable. That I’m dating him, and about that morning when I left his apartment and—”

“So it’s true.”

“I guess it is.”

“Thank you for telling me even if it took you longer than I expected. I am truly happy for you and wish you both the best. I heard he’s vegan too, so it won’t be an issue in you’re relationship if you eventually decide to—”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Truly happy for me,”

“Are you happy with him?”

She nods.

She smiles and it almost reaches her eyes.

Inside, she breaks a little. She knows it’s going to take a very long time before she can forget how good it feels to see it. To forget how she misses it everyday. To do without the urge to press her lips against that mouth and absorb that smile.

“How is… How’s Theo?”

“We broke up.” She states flatly, but the smile stays.

And just like that, the glass of a veneer shutters. She wants to take back everything she thought she wanted. Because if she’s no longer with him, then maybe…

“I lied to you.”

About being happy in love with him? About being with him at all? What, specifically?

“I could tell.”

She’s in the brink of tears. They both are. But there are reasons for them not to spill and just fall where they may. Such reasons lie outside the compartments of this tiny cubicle, waiting to judge them with or without warrant. 

“Then why won’t you say anything?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does. I need to know what you think of it. Why did you break up with him?”

“My thoughts are for me and not for you. Just as your affair with him is none of my business. And please, try to say out of my business too.”

It hits her right in the chest, penetrating through her skin and reaching for that beating heart of hers. She should be dead already from its painful blow.

“Leave him out then. Tell me. I just need words. You never let me inside that head of yours.” _Please._

“How could I not consider Sebastian? He has you.”

“Because you let me go!”

“Stop,” She breathes. Or she tries to, as there’s not enough ventilation in the room. There’s not enough space in between them for her not to get light-headed from the revelry of being this close to her again. What is it with this woman? She sucks all the air out of her lungs with her hazel eyes and her blonde hair and that look—that look of a lamb.

Her hand goes to the crevice in her neck and grips. “Don’t try to turn this around and blame me for everything. He’s your choice. I never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“I know.”

“..”

“..”

“…I’m sorry. We should go. He’s probably out there looking for you. And I need—I need to find Jon.”

“Okay…”

Not one of them moves. They’ve yet to drop the other shoe.

“Is this the end?”

“As far as I know we’re already past that. I no longer know what this is.”

 

 ***

 _2009_

“Dianna?”

“Dianna?”

“..”

“Hey! There you are, I thought— oh.”

“Lea…”

“Shit. I-I didn’t mean to pry. I thought nobody was home. I just… I should go.”

Through her muffled sobs she manages to say the words, ‘fine’, ‘please’ and ‘stay’.

“Are you sure?”

She nods once, twice, three times, until she’s an uncontrollable wreck. She cries messily. Openly without restraint. And in front of a girl she just moved in with. Lea Michele must be asking herself what she’s gotten herself into. Here she is, standing by the door, watching somebody fall apart right in front of her while she even hasn’t eaten her breakfast yet. Maybe she should have chosen a different cast mate to live with. Maybe with Jenna, even if their personalities would often strike up an argument momentarily. That’s a lot easier to handle.

But this?

“Breathe.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Come on, breathe with me.”

Inhale. Exhale. You’re doing great Dianna. In. Out. In. Out. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Perfect. Again.

Just breathe.

“Dianna?”

Just breathe.

“Dianna…”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking,” She’s not as talented when it comes to consoling someone other than Jon. “Let me help.”

She has to clear her throat repeatedly, before she could speak without much hoarseness in her voice.

She hasn’t mentioned his name in months until now. When she does, Lea recognizes him as the younger brother of a more established actor in the industry. Lea lets her talk. Lets her curse occasionally. Lets her scream. She wipes away the snot on Dianna’s face. She wipes the sweat on her forehead and on her neck caused by her earlier tremors and the burning temperature of L.A. She gets them both a bottle of vodka. She lets Dianna drink hers when it isn’t enough. She firmly says she’s had enough when Dianna asks for more. She lies on the bed with her, just listening and squeezing her hand when it hurts too much. She’s patient, never once looking at the clock above their heads.

Eventually, the tears and ripples subside and Lea’s still there, not willing to let her go just yet. She stays and calls Ryan to tell him they both caught the flu and couldn’t make it to the set.

And when there are no words left to say, Lea sings.

In one morning, she’s become every pleasant thing Dianna knows combined.

 ***

 _2009_

“Is Jon you’re boyfriend?”

She bursts into a fit of giggles because really, Jonathan Groff? Her boyfriend? She wanted him all throughout Spring Awakening. She still fancied him for awhile after he came out to her.  She’d marry him regardless. Then have babies in his sleep.

But Jon was, and is, the brother she never had.

“Miss Agron, you have a lot to learn about the love affair between a girl and her very gay friend.”

“I think I do, considering you call it a love affair.”

“A love fest!”

“Right, Lea, that too. But, did you ever…”

“Did I ever…? Geez, you can’t say it, can you? You’re too polite for your own good. And please, enough of the formalities, we got that over with a month ago during the fancy Glee welcoming dinner. Don’t call me Lea—no, I forbid you to call me by my first name or my middle name.”

“As you wish, Miss Sarfati.”

“And by my last name too, I forbid you! Where’s the creative Dianna Agron they’re all talking about? Where is she? Seriously.”

“We’re roommates, and co-stars and friends too. Does that necessarily mean we need to acquire new nicknames for each other?”

“It’s not a need. It’s a requirement.”

“Fine, Lady. Now, Re: Jonathan Groff. Did you uh… Did you guys ever engaged in an activity that commonly occurs in a bedroom?”

“You mean had sex?  Made out till we passed out? Hump each other’s brains out? ”

“…”

“Your ears are red, Lady Di.”

“Isn’t it obvious I don’t talk about these things often? I mean, unless I’ve had at least one drink or with someone I’ve known for years. ”

“I can’t believe how lady-lady you are just like Quinn Fabray.”

“How is my character ‘lady-lady’?”

“Oh please, I don’t have to explain. She prays in the middle of a make-out session that basically has the potential to lead to sex.”

“H-how is that—never mind. We clearly don’t share the same idea of a ‘lady’, Lady. And may I remind you of the question-”

“Jon and I never had sex, at least not post-Spring Awakening.”

“You mean…”

“And pre-Spring Awakening, too. We had all our fun on the stage, beneath a row of fake stars and the bullshits in between.”

“That doesn’t count. Staged love making isn’t real.”

“It isn’t?”

“You tell me!”

“You can ask Jon, if you like.”

“You’re bluffing. It would have been banned in New York if—”

“Would it?”

“…”

“Your face is red, Lady Di,” She teases. “How about now, am I still your Lady? No don’t answer that. I am but a woman.”

“You are,” She absent-mindedly smiles. “You most certainly are.”

The next time she takes a photo of Lea, she calls it exactly what she is to her. _Her Lady_.  But she makes sure she leaves out the first word before posting it in her blog and out for the world to see.

 _***_

 _2009_

It’s when Lea performs ‘ _Don’t Rain on my Parade’_ that she realizes, ‘Are we all lucky or what?’

Her voice has been gracing the proud stage of Broadway since she was 8 years old. To say she's an exceptional stage actress is an understatement. To say she’s a good singer is criticism. So Dianna wants to know, how is it that people can live around this lady without a shaking feet?

Look at her. She is _life_. They’re all watching and standing before life. What do you do about that?

Dianna’s mindless of her own actions until Ryan yells, ‘Cut!’

“Raise your hand if you’re the idiot clapping his hands together in the middle of the fucking song!”

When Dianna met him, he _was_ a nice man.

Fear grips her chest, but she doesn’t think twice when she raises her hand high enough—not for him— but for Lea to see.

She follows Lea’s eyes dart from her hand, and down to meet her gaze. There, that’s life smiling right at her.

“Again, the applause doesn’t come in until the end of ‘Don’t Rain on My Fucking Parade’. Dianna, up here sweetie, you need to focus. Fo-cus. I want to wrap this up by seven. Take two!”

Dianna keeps her hands to her side throughout the rest of the scene.

When Lea gets to the peak, to the most difficult note, Dianna is left with nothing but the trace of extravagance in her ears.

It continues to echo and she continues to listen with equal fervor.

 

 _2009_

“Manhands,”

“Say the other one!”

“Treasure Trail.”

“Again! Again!”

“You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”

“I’m not! Just one more time, please.”

Goodness, she can’t believe this woman. To shut her up once and for all, she borrows an entire line from the show and delivers them outside the persona of Quinn Fabray. “Listen here, treasure trail. We're about to have a smack-down.”

Dianna hears a shriek from the kitchen. Whatever it is she’s preparing for tonight, it’s starting to smell more and more delicious. Giving what Lea Michele wants must be doing wonders to her cooking. She used to have take-out every night. Dianna can’t believe how she survived a vegan lifestyle apart from her Lady. And Lea’s not even a good vegan—she can never say no to cheese.

“Why on earth are you asking me to run my lines for you?”

“Because I’ve been right all along that Dianna Agron sucks at being a bitch.”

She sees Dianna as a toned down version of Sybil Dorsett. But instead of 16 outrageous personalities, there are only two:  a conflicted Quinn and a love-dominated Dianna.

It’s impossible not to notice this lady when she’s a perfect contradiction to the character she plays.

“Is that your way of saying I’m a good actress?”

“It’s my way of saying you’re an incredible actress.”

“You spoil me, Lady. With words, and food too.”

“Only because you deserve it, Lady Di.”

“You love me so much.” _Do you?_

“You love me more.” _Of course._

“I’m going to expect cupcakes tomorrow then, when I come home.”

“Sure, wifey.”

Literally stricken with an unfamiliar feeling, she’s completely forgotten about San Francisco and the house she grew up in and the backyard where she used to role-play Alice in Wonderland with her brother.

For her, this is home. In this shared apartment where someone calls her _wifey_ , where she can indulge in cupcakes everyday, where Friday nights meant nesting in their couch to watch Pixar animated films. Then falling asleep on said couch and waking up on the floor.

Lea’s also rarely out of the kitchen. Maybe for a change, she can take her Lady out for dinner this Saturday.

“Actually, Jon and a few friends of mine are coming over to visit and I was wondering if I can host a house party?”

“So in other words, you’re kicking me out this weekend?”

“You totally got that wrong! This is me, inviting you.”

Red plastic cups, smoke, Lea, Jon and a dozen strangers to play a drinking game? No, thank you.

“I was just kidding. You go have fun with your New Yorkers. I’m going to a concert anyway.”

“Oh. Who’s playing?”

Shit, uhm..

“Lea?”  There’s a radio-like voice coming from the living room. “Honey, are you there?”

Brown eyes light up at her and her breath hitches against her will. “I’ll be back in a sec. Watch this for me, will you?”

She peers inside the pot and smiles. Lea cooks her favorites every single night. It’s almost surreal.

And then she hears it.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Promise me you’ll come home next week.”

Perhaps it’s her mom? A friend of hers? Maybe Jon?

“Dianna! Come over here and say hi to a fan!”

She’s on Skype with a fan?

“Hi there, what’s your name?”

“Call me Theo. And whatever she tells you about me don’t believe her…”

 “He’s my boyfriend.” Lea states proudly.

“…Except that. It’s nice to meet you, Dianna.”

 _Oh._

She has this _look_ on her face which Dianna doesn’t recognize at all and it’s a strange thing when her stomach takes a double turn.

She should say the same thing to him. _Nice to meet you, too_. But she doesn’t. She’s mute for the time being.

“He’s a self-proclaimed Gleek. When I asked him who his favorite character is, he answered yours.”

Theo laughs, or makes an ugly sound, and says, “I enjoy your harassment of her on television.”

“He’s the worst boyfriend, isn’t he?”

“I don’t—”

“Di! Recite one of Quinn’s badass lines,” She turns to her boyfriend. “Love, you’ll see how good she is. It’s totally different from when she’s in character. It’s like she can’t ever hurt someone with words—”

Being called ‘wifey’ by Lea doesn’t feel so much special now.

Dianna doesn’t wait for her to finish and delivers it smoothly.

Except this time when she recites a snarky comment from the script, Lea can’t tell whether it’s Quinn or Dianna.

She eyes her sweet, good-natured roommate in bewilderment. _What’s going on?_

Dianna merely shrugs in a fashion so much like Quinn’s and says, “I must have finally gotten the hang of saying it correctly.”

Dianna knows she really needs to think first before she acts. But it’s hard to be that, when Lea’s overflowing with spontaneity.

The truth is, she’s struggling hard to keep up.

 

 _2009_

“Lady Di, where are you going?”

To drink a gazillion cups of coffee. To think. There’s an awful lot of thinking she wants to do right now, and she doesn’t know where to begin.

“Out with a friend,”

Technically, she’s not lying. Books have been her friend since childhood. Truth be told, ever since she moved in with Lea, she hasn’t been able to fully concentrate on reading. Lea has this habit to occasionally check in on her if she wants tea, or if she’s hungry, or if Dianna wants to order salad from their favorite vegan restaurant.

Or sometimes she’d just lie in front of her and watch her read. And that’s when she loses thought of the whole story before her and she’ll need to start all over again. So she makes it a point to read in places far enough, where it’s possible to think of something else other than Lea.

“Friend, huh?”

“Yes, Lea.”

“Really? You’re going to leave me alone on a Friday night just to meet with a ‘friend’?”

“Sorry.”

“Hush, Lady Di. Let me present to you my love offering first before you bail on me.”

“I’m listening.”

“This is a one time deal only. Ready?”

She nods.

“Toy Story, vegan pop corn from C’est La Vegan—did I pronounce it right?—cupcakes, Our Daily Red wine—you should try this, Di, it tastes terrific—and Toy Story. The magic word is ‘yes’. Say it, and they’re all yours for the taking! Plus, I will also take care of the dishes. What do you say?”

Yes. A thousand times over and every single time, it’s a yes. Lea doesn’t have any idea that this is exactly her choice of a perfect date. But that’s the problem with this proposition. It isn’t a date. Not in the way Dianna wants it to be.

“Maybe we can watch a different movie instead.”

“But I want infinity and beyond!”

She’s not getting out of this if she stays for another minute.

“I want… I-I have to go.”

She doesn’t miss the disappointment that lingers behind long after she’s gone.

***

She hasn’t told anyone that Toy Story’s the last movie she watched with her father before he left them to be some place else. God knows where, but the fact stays that he left. She still remembers the time her mother cried while reading Alice in Wonderland with her. She remember the time her brother, J, lost the spark of innocence in his eyes. They never played in the backyard

She hopes Lea would understand when she comes back later to explain.

And of course, Lea does. She ingests all of it without blinking. 

Dianna doesn’t know why, but out of nowhere she just asks Lea to setup the DVD player and watch the movie.

Maybe she wants to make new memories. Maybe after some time, she’ll only remember Toy Story and the night she watched it with her Lady. 

She’s done thinking about it. It’s Lea who’s come to her rescue and she wants to be saved.

 ***

 _November 10, 2009_

“It was a perfect time to fall in love with one’s roommate. With their impeccable speech and acquired taste in wine. With the way they dance while making dinner. With how they’re so much different from you, and yet… it’s a difference you can’t live without. It wasn’t just falling in love.

It was falling in love with style. There were candles everywhere. And how often does one realize what’s been pounding on their hearts all along, with the soft glimmer of burning lights to guide them? It was never a hurricane of hands, tongue and skin. I fell in love with the way she talks to me. When I had nowhere to go, her words took me in.

Was it possible to fall down the rabbit hole twice?

One day I woke up, with her chin resting against my shoulder and I felt different about that. It happened plenty of times before. But at that moment, something clicks into place. Then I felt different about this whole living together arrangement. I felt different about the way she's holding me in the morning. About our shared fridge. About when she borrows one of my clothes. About our adopted cats. About how everything around us is 'ours' and not mine or hers. I felt different about her. The best kind of different I've felt in a long time."

She writes it in her blog, just in case she forgets. She doesn’t publish it publicly, not because she it would recklessly ignite rumors—and she knows she isn’t ready for that—but simply because it’s unnecessary.

No one has to know. No one needs to.

And so, she searches one of Pablo Neruda’s most overrated poems because she simply feels the desire to be in love and more.

I love you, as certain dark things are to be loved: In secret between the shadow and the soul.

Yes. That’s why she posts a song by Melpo Mene instead.

Now if, by any chance, her Lady gets to see this entry and play this song, then she might as well write a dedication: 

‘For you, yes, you.'

 _  
_

_August 2011, same night_

“Di,”

“Yeah?”

“I saw her at the gala tonight.”

“…”

“Did you meet her? I think she was with Groff. She was in a red—”

A red, strapless gown that looks closely similar to the one she wore last year. It accentuates her shoulders and her breasts and the musical note tattoo behind her left shoulder. Red’s her color, don’t you agree? It compliments her eyes. There’s a locket around her neck too. Don’t you know that I gave it to her a month before her birthday? How about the white gold band on her ring finger? Have you ever noticed that sometimes I wear the exact same ring?

 _Have you?_ Dianna muses. He wouldn’t know any of those things because he never asked.

“No.” She finally says, and watches her own reflection from the windshield.

“Oh. Well, she looked really great.”

He pulls up to a curb and the car screeches into a halt. “Dianna, baby? We’re here.”

She doesn’t think she’ll invite him inside her apartment tonight. “Thanks.” Right before she reaches for the door handle, Sebastian gently grabs her arm.

“Look, I know this is too soon but I have to say it or I’ll lose it.”

“Seb—”

“I love you.” He says it like he means it. He says it unlike any other man who has said it to her. He takes her hand, squeezes it briefly and repeats it again when the color drains from her eyes.

“You don’t have to say it back, okay? No matter how long it’ll take you, just think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

***

Inside her bedroom, she strips off the tight gown, finally allowing her body to breathe, and slips into a football uniform—the one Lea wore in the Superbowl episode. After begging their wardrobe team for it, Lea used it as a sleepwear. And when she moved out of their apartment Dianna asked her to leave it behind. On Lea it was ridiculously oversized. On her, it fits perfectly.

She sleeps in it, probably more often than Lea ever did. It’s not nostalgic. Not sickly or pathetic. Its… it’s her safe place.  It puts her at ease. She’s never had nightmares while wearing it.

Her brain grows antsy. Her fingers itch. She needs to get this off her system. She needs to write. She needs to get out of this godforsaken football uniform.

Immediately, she removes the material from her body, almost ripping it apart. She climbs off the bed, crosses the small distance to the computer and hastily lifts the lid of her MacBook.

In a moment, there’s the cursor blinking at her. She stares back at it, trying to figure out when the first words, phrases, sentences will come.

Nothing.

Nothing comes because Lea’s right—she no longer knows what this is about.  Where the tightening in her chest is coming from or why she can’t wear a shirt without the fight for air.

There’s Sebastian now, and he had just told her he loves her.

And Lea looked at her tonight. They spent merely five minutes in close proximity. How come _that_ changes everything?

Searching for an answer, she opens a private entry from two years ago. She reads it. She skips over some parts, she repeats some of them. The words jump from the screen and into her heart.

 _***_

 ___November 10, 2009_

Dianna remembers. She sees herself when wrote it down without looking back. That was a good day she’d never want to ruin.

 _…It was falling in love with style._

But what happens when you land? Because it’s not possible to just keep falling and falling, is it? The screen flickers. She drags the cursor upwards, and it hovers above the delete icon of her entry.

Dianna waits. A second. Four seconds. Three minutes.

How long? How long will it take until she’s sure?

 

 _May 2009_

Lea's wearing flats tonight, so when Dianna takes her clumsily in her arms, Lea's face ends up snuggled perfectly below her right shoulder.

 “Dianna, where the hell have you been?”

Here all the while. Maybe you weren’t looking.

Grimacing, she draws her head back just enough to add, "And also, you stink worse than a pack of American Spirit."

Dianna did. She didn't mean to, but she smoked that much cigarettes while exiled to some corner of the room, watching Lea drag Theo everywhere she goes—whether it’s a trip to the bathroom or to get more wine coolers or to trick Cory into dancing, he’s just… He’s just everywhere.

She keeps hearing her call him 'love'. She keeps seeing how her _Lad_ —how Lea looks at him. She keeps thinking that _wow,_ if this is jealousy, then she wants to have nothing to do with it.

Love is never jealous, is it? Especially friendship love. And definitely, love never causes you to drink more than you should.

It’s been a habit of hers to observe people for as long as she can remember. Tonight, she takes it to another level and scrutinizes Theo. She keeps looking out for Lea’s behavior around her boyfriend. She doesn’t mean to, but she compares them with how Lea acts around her on a regular day. She lets her eyes take every measure of his appearance. And not to offend, but his pale complexion confuses her. She's never seen anyone with skin so white, she can almost see through its layer of flesh. Was that attractive? Does this turn Lea on?

 _Stop_ , she tells herself.  Lea doesn’t deserve this from you.

"Lady Di?" She hears, or rather feels her say against her slumped shoulder.

Lea’s voice coaxes her away from a part of herself that she hasn’t visited in years. She comes back to her senses, disappointed to still be in this party. Lea is still in her embrace. Theo's nowhere to be seen. What was she doing?

"Hi, Mrs. Potato Head!" Dianna giggles. “I know someone who looks exactly like you!”

"Di, what have you been smoking?"

"Excuse me, Lady. If you must know, I haven't had a single joint in years. And you can tell that to Theo, too.”

Lea holds on to her waist, keeping them both in balance. "Get your shit together, Agron. Button up that shirt. God, you're a mess. What has gotten into you?”

"I'm perfect."

"I'm sure you are."

"Really, don't worry about me."

"You should worry about yourself.”

“I’ll do that. Be a good girlfriend and go to your man."

"But I came here looking for you."

"Sarfati.”

“Agron.”

She rests her forehead against Lea’s and thinks about keeping her here. Maybe they could play the old “I’m drunk and you’re it!” game, and let this woman take responsibility of her. They could. They definitely could.

But she isn’t eighteen any more. She’s past blaming everything on the alcohol. She’s a lot braver than that. Or maybe Lea’s just confusing, and the past several weeks isn’t exactly what it looks like.

Which is why, she presses her palms on either side of Lea’s face and says, “Seriously, Lady, I’m good.”

“Are you absolutely positive?”

“Ninety, point… fifty-three percent.”

“Not good enough!”

“Okay. How about this, you look for Theo while I get myself some water.”

“Just stay here. I’ll go get it for you.”

Lea disentangles herself from her arms, and Dianna finally lets her go. She’s not going to be right where she’s standing when Lea return. She wasn’t supposed to be here anyway. Dianna understands that it’s necessary for her to spend every microsecond with Theo while he’s here. Who was she to get in the way? She understands longing, and how a minute, an hour or a night will never be enough to extinguish it. She understands you cannot put out fire with fire. There’s only missing, wanting, and waiting for a love stretched over fifty states. It’s consistent and never ending. And Dianna thinks—for all one knows, it’s not even the distance that gets in the way.

It is how love is never enough.  

***

Somewhere in the middle of the night, she wakes up to a wet towel pressed against her face. She can’t remember how she got to bed, but she feels relieved that thankfully, she still has her clothes on.

“Morning, Di.”

Lea?

“You know, Theo came here so he could be with me. But he also really wanted to meet you,” Dianna hears her say. “Get to know you,” She hears… letdown. “Don’t worry, I told him maybe we could do it some other time.”

There’s smile in her voice, but…

"I'm sorry, Lady.”

Lea continues to rub the soft material gently against her cheek. “That’s okay, Di. Go back to sleep. I’m going to shove you inside the shower first thing in the morning. You really, really reek of—why am I still having a conversation with you.”

If her muscles would let her, she’d laugh.

Before she could stop herself, Dianna drags out the words out of nowhere. "You really love him, don't you?"

Her Lady gives no answer, but she doesn’t miss the ambiguous smile that makes its way to her lips.

Well, that should obviously answer the question.

 

 _July 2009_

"What's the occasion?"

Lea could almost see all of her perfect white teeth. All she had to say in order to induce that charming smile on Dianna’s face was, ‘do you want to go to movie and dinner with me?’

It worked like a spell. The girl before her is glowing.  Her golden hair, her eyes—they’re all pulsating with anticipation. Maybe once, Lea had been a tad jealous of this woman and that thing (Lea isn’t sure what it is exactly) about Dianna that makes people want to get to know her. But it’s commonly assumed for anyone who crosses paths with her. The challenge was to feel otherwise. 

But Lea move passed that. Then by some means, Dianna became her substitute for sunshine on a stormy day.

She shrugs and says, "Can't I just take my lady Di out for a date?”

Dianna’s neck flares up. She should really stop calling it that. Or making anything seem more than what they really are. It clearly isn’t doing much for her already impaired judgment

“You can,” Dianna pouts. “You’ve just never asked me before, even though it’s sensible thing to do.”

“Is that a yes? Or do I have to do this Disney-style, get on my knees and—”

“Lea, that’s not exactly Disney.”

Lea’s eyes propel towards the muscles of Dianna’s neck as she convulses with laughter. Every beat and sound vibrates through the strings of that pale column. She stares at it with unwavering fascination, until it became a magnetic pattern that reels her into a trance. She feels a hot flush spread across her face as she wills herself to look somewhere else.

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll just go, and bake my butt off until I pass out and— Di!” She yelps as Dianna suddenly grabs her into a crushing hug.

“Di!” Lea gasps. She gasps for air, for the oxygen in her body. Fervently chasing it like a runaway.

“I’m not letting you go. Not until you get rid of that ugly scowl.” She murmurs into Lea’s hair, and then her voice drops into a whisper. “Of course, I’d let you take me out tonight. Thank you.”

Lea says in a huff, “I don’t like you sometimes.” But she’s already hugging Dianna back, and smiling too. How unfair it is that Dianna can conveniently dispel every inch of venom in her body.

“So what movie are we seeing tonight?”

“It’s up to you.”

“But this is your idea. _You_ asked _me_.”

“Exactly.”

"You’re logic’s reversed.”

“That’s why you’ll never figure me out.” Lea teases lightly.

“You’re right,” Dianna mumbles. “I might never will.” And maybe she doesn’t want to. Maybe, Dianna only wants to persevere in trying.

They stilled for a while, letting the wind pass gently between their bodies. Meaningful silence—it’s Lea’s idea of being. It was, for her, a diverse feat of give-and-take.

Right when she’s about to yield to its pull, Dianna turns her attention to the list of movies currently showing.

Not much to her surprise, Dianna picks _500 Days of Summer_. One afternoon she was on the phone with Jon, when a trailer for the movie flashed across their television screen. She should have remembered what Jon had been saying to her at that point, but all she could remember so vividly was how Dianna’s eyes lit up when she heard The Smith’s song acapella’d by the title character.

What Lea noticed was the movement of her mouth as she lip-synced along with the actress, and it had pained her to see Dianna’s lack of confidence in her own singing voice.

What Lea saw was more than an engrossed, twenty-three year old woman on her couch.

Oh, she saw so much more. She saw something utterly beautiful. And from that moment on, Lea keeps piling reasons after reasons on what makes her so close to perfection.

Despite her obvious enthusiasm towards the film, Dianna asks, “Or did you want to see something else?”

Lea considers this carefully. In all conscience, it’s a movie she’d rather steer away from in her current sentiment. But the radiance of Dianna’s smile makes it hard for her to say no.

“It’s perfectly fine.” Lea responds.

Dianna links her arm with hers and says, “Drive me to my happiness, Lady.”

Lea thinks of those eyes that continue to probe at her own. It is, by all means, the one thing New York will never have.

***

"So," Dianna steps right into her path, towering over her. Lea automatically staggers backwards when she breathes— because that’s how Dianna’s standing too close. It's like she's inhaled what is distinctively Dianna—her smell, her skin, her everything. It's irrevocably suffocating.

"Oh, sorry." Dianna allows enough space for Lea's breathing to return to normal. "You want get a cup of coffee, and have a totally not-dorky, in-depth post-movie discussion with me?"

She continues, "I think I was more in-touch with the Tom character.  It’s embarrassing and painful to admit but it happened to me before. My Summer only wanted me for something that until now, I still quite haven’t figured out yet...”

Lea gives her a look.

“What?"

"You're unbelievably chatty tonight."

"And you're disturbingly quiet."

"I have the capability to shut up once in a while, you know." Lea didn’t intend for the sharpness of her tone to cut through but it did.

Dianna’s beam immediately drops. "What's bothering you?"

Lea fidgets. She lowers her eyes to the ground, past the concrete and deep through the unknowns as if to bury the thoughts running through her head. It’s impossible to hide from this woman no matter how often she does it.

"Lea."

She looks up and smiles faintly. "Tom and Summer."

"What about them?"

“Nothing. Just their tragic not-love story.”

“Let’s talk about it then. Relationships aren’t trivial. Nothing about it is “nothing”, even if it’s only conceived for theatrical purposes. How you look at it, relate to it, is important. Which is why what we do matters, remember?”

Lea nods timidly. “I want to know something. So please, answer this with complete honesty, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Is it… Is it really possible for a person’s thoughts and feelings to change overnight? I mean, the film failed to show us when and how Summer dropped out of Tom all of a sudden. I know they skipped over that part because they focused on the breakup and the moving on bits of the story. And they missed it, Di. They missed the point that matters above else.”

“When I tell you my answer, I’m only speaking for myself, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You really can’t tell when you’ve changed. You might think it took you by surprise, abruptly without any warnings. Who knows, maybe it did. But for me it’s the slight changes that take place during the times we’re not paying attention—especially when we’re not paying attention. Maybe Summer loved him a little lesser everyday, up until it became obvious to her and she couldn’t ignore it any longer.”

“Does this mean it has happened to you before?”

“Yes, and I don’t think it ever stops materializing in me secretly.”

Lea merely looks at her, concentrating to see if she can see that change taking place inside Dianna.

“Lea, why were you thinking such things?”

No answer. And as if it becomes apparent over Lea’s muteness, Dianna mutters, “ _Oh._ ”

“Is this about Theo? Oh, wow, don’t go thinking about too much of what I told you. I’m sorry, I completely overlooked the whole idea.”

“No! Well, particularly it’s not—”

“Because I don’t think Theo’s going to change his mind about you any sooner. Or ever.”

“Di…”

“If there’s one thing I can be absolutely sure of, it’s that. Which is why you need to stop worrying about it.” Dianna says with utmost assurance.

 _But what if it’s not Theo I’m worried about? What if…_

“Lea, do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Dianna wistfully looks past her and to somewhere distant, muttering, “You know something else, Lady? I think people will have the hardest time trying to change their mind about you. At least, for me it’s true.”

And right when Dianna says it, does Lea feel that slight shift her heart’s wiling to take. 

 


End file.
